


dead right there

by coruscantguard (nadiavandyne), nadiavandyne



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol and Subsequent Poor Decision Making, Angst, Hate Sex, M/M, Melancholy, Minor CC-2224 | Cody/CT-7567 | Rex, Non-Explicit Sex, One Brief Line Implying Past Sexual Assault, Post-Episode: s06e04 Orders, Reluctant Aftercare, Rough Sex, Self-Destruction, Semi-Public Sex, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27963308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nadiavandyne/pseuds/coruscantguard, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nadiavandyne/pseuds/nadiavandyne
Summary: It's rough. It's messy. It's angry and viscious and a thousand other adjectives that Rex doesn't care to think of right now.It's all he seems to know how to be these days.
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox/CT-7567 | Rex
Comments: 8
Kudos: 55
Collections: Star Wars Rare Pairs 2020





	dead right there

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kutaisi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kutaisi/gifts).



It's rough. It's messy. It's angry and viscious and a thousand other adjectives that Rex doesn't care to think of right now.

It's all he seems to know how to be these days. 

Fox is panting beside him, breathes hoarse and jagged as he comes down from whatever karked up headspace he goes to when they do this, and Rex is determinedly not looking, not asking. He stares down at his legs instead, winces at the quickly forming bruise from when Fox kicked him in the shin, and sighs. 

"We can't do this again," he says.

Fox makes a scoffing noise, and Rex has to bite down on his cheek to stop himself from reacting, to stop himself from shutting Fox up with his own mouth. He _could_ , and it would be enjoyable if he did— Fox certainly wouldn't stop him— but. He shouldn't. 

"Oya, captain," Fox says, and his voice sounds hoarse, painful, but he still manages to put enough sarcasm in it to rankle Rex. Still manages to say it in a tone that's tip toeing between disrespect and disregard.

And the fact that Fox can make oya sound bitter and angry is both impressive and disgusting. Rex probably should've expected it, though. Of course Fox would twist yet another thing that should be positive into something tainted, something painful.

Everything between them is tainted, though. Everything between them is painful. It has been since the warehouse. Has been since the aftermath of that, when whatever the kriff this is started.

Fox initiated it the first time, was the one to cross the bridge and approach him at that bar, to take the punch Rex used as a greeting with a smirk, and grin when the vode around them finally managed to pull them apart.

By then, Rex had been bloody and _miserable_ and Fox had made some cut about Coruscanti back alleys that was ragged and desperate and had a thousand implications linked to it. He dimly remembers Commander Stone being there, a frown on his face, reaching out towards Fox, and how Fox had ducked out from under his hand, approaching Rex with a challenge clear in his eyes. The vode that had been holding Rex back had melted away when Fox approached, and in that moment, all he'd known was a desperate, boiling fury and the cockiness on Fox's face.

Next thing he knew Fox's knees were hitting the alleyway ground with a painful sounding thud, Rex was throwing his head back against the wall, gasping out curses as Fox swallowed him whole. He had laced his hands through hair just too long to be regulation, made some cruel comment about it, and Fox had just arched into the touch and embraced the insult and—

There's something about the mental image of Fox on his knees in the grime of the alleyway, bloodied and bruised and practically bleeding with heady desperation, Fox on his knees and alcohol on his breath and a mouth that was _too damn good at this_ , that Rex hasn't been able to shake. 

They were friends, once. Good friends. And old habits die hard. 

There's a shaky breath behind him, and Rex sighs, steels himself, and turns around, swinging his legs back up on the bed. He doesn't speak, just reaches out and snags Fox's shoulder, guiding him down and into his lap.

Fox, the ungrateful shabuir, chooses to respond to that by hissing like a feral karking tooka, and twisting sideways so that he can land an elbow in Rex's gut. 

"Kriff you," Rex spits out, tightening his hold, and Fox bares his teeth, writhes in his grasp. "I can still leave," Rex threatens.

"Leave, then," Fox spits back, and Rex growls, takes a hit to the ribs before he manages to catch Fox in a headlock and restrain his arms firmly behind him.

"Don't be a di'kut," Rex returns, and Fox twists to glower at him. 

There's tense silence for a few seconds, and he noticed that Fox is shaking, small shivers that wrack his body. Only noticeable because of their close contact, but impossible to ignore after that. 

Fox glares at him, and Rex returns it twofold, but then a larger shiver hits, and Fox quakes in his grasp, drops his head so that it hangs. Wearily says, "solah."

Rex lets him up, but keeps a hand heavy on his back, directing Fox to stay, commanding him to lie down. And it takes a few more seconds, but then Fox suddenly makes a noise like he's been punched and curls into him and his touch. Rex is pretty sure that Fox is drifting right now, and while he'll pull himself out of it soon enough, he'll be clingy until then, desperate for some kind of skin on skin contact. 

If he'd just left, Fox would've tried to push off any emotional reaction— was already trying to do so even with Rex here. It's the bite in his words and determined refusal for anything that gives it away— and _Force_ , does Rex find that dumbass self destruction to be infuriating. It's not a karking crime to need things, and for all that Fox pretends to be a droid, Rex knows damn well that he's not actually one. Heartless, maybe, a traitor to his brothers, absolutely, but still a karking human being.

Fox's refusal to accept that he's just as vulnerable as the rest of them is also not Rex's problem, so he probably should just step back and let Fox burn. And he would, but—

But _Fox_ wants him to let Fox burn, and the fury from the years and years of unfairness, of fear and blood and brothers dying and Ahsoka working with karking Ventress and the General refusing to believe Fives all has him angry enough that he feels like he's going to explode, and he actually has an outlet for it here. So maybe he should watch Fox burn, but putting him out instead pisses Fox the kriff off, and the two of them can go at each other like they're trying to both kark and kill each other at the same time without it affecting their professional relationship, so it works.

Mostly because anything but hatred in their professional relationship died a fiery death with Fox's shot into Fives' heart, so it can't possibly get worse, but that's neither here nor there.

A soft whine pulls him from his thoughts, and Fox nuzzles further into his lap, entwining his arms around Rex's waist as he does. Fox shudders in his lap, makes a noise that's not quite a sob, but not not a sob either, and Rex internally cursed himself as he reaches a hand out to card a hand through Fox's hair. 

Reassurance is what's needed here, Rex knows that, but he _can't_ open his mouth, so... this will have to be enough. This will have to be enough, because he knows he'll be cruel if he tries to speak, can feel the acidity in his veins, and he knows that cruelty here will be disastrous. Knows that anything he might want to say will have to wait until the next time they're actually in the moment.

And with a reluctant sigh, Rex finally let's himself surrender to the potent mixture of guilt and disgust and self-hatred and loathing that always comes after this, and tries to pretend that it's Cody who's laying his head in his lap. Tries to pretend that he's bringing his hands through Cody's hair, that if the man in his lap tilts his head, he'll see Cody's scar.

Rex almost— _almost_ — wonders who it is that Fox is imagining while he's curls up around Rex like a loth cat. 

He doesn't, though. Wonder, that is. He doesn't give a damn about Fox except for wanting to see him get his dues, only stays because he's not an absolute chakaar of a partner, and he's not just gonna let him drop. 

(If Rex tells himself that enough, he can almost believe it too.) 

**Author's Note:**

> Kutaisi, I hope you enjoyed!!! These two hurt me in the best of ways, and their post-Fives' death dynamic is angsty perfection 
> 
> I wanted to show that they both really do still care about each other, for all that they're really not in a good place right now, and I hope I pulled that off, haha. I just have _so many thoughts_ about them! Fox, who's drowning in guilt and actively seeking self destruction, and Rex, who's fucking furious with Fox, but has all this history with Fox that's making that fury complicated... it's the good osik. And I really wanted to end it on a slightly upwards note as well— I know it's super angsty, but I wanted to make it clear that there is care here, that for all the issues they have, Rex does care about Fox. He wishes he didn't, but he does.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [last dead canary](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29151735) by [foxika (kylonaberrie)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylonaberrie/pseuds/foxika)




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